YI SHA 伊沙：DREAMS 梦 (#1-50)

I have written a letter to my uncle,
want to go to the post office.
Mother tells me: “write our home
phone number on the back of the envelope!”

“It is forbidden to write or draw anything on the back!”,
is my impatient reply.
On my way to the post office
I am thinking: is there such a rule?

On the only path to the post office,
the alley where I fought as a kid,
my uncle’s wife comes up to me.
I am calling her: “Auntie! Auntie!”

But she ignores me,
looks at me like she’s never seen me.
Only then I remember: she is already dead!
She has died in our year of calamities, 1997

I am feeling cold sweat,
take out my cell to phone home
and shout at my mother: “Mama, now I believe in ghosts,
on the street I’ve met auntie, who is already dead!”

The voice in my cell phone is 120% of my mother:
“Son! how could you forget?
Mama is also already dead –
I died the same year your auntie died!”

2011
Tr. MW, 2016

梦（1）

我给舅舅写好了一封信
准备去邮局投寄这封信
母亲叮嘱：“你把咱家的
电话号码写在信封背面”

“信封上不许乱涂乱画”
我很不耐烦地回应母亲
走在去邮局的路上
我还在想着此事：到底有无这项规定？

通往邮局的惟一的路
是我儿时常打巷战的那条小巷
迎面看见了我的舅婆
我叫她：“舅婆！舅婆！”

她不理我
看我的表情就像不认识我似的
我这才恍然想起：她已经死了
死在我们家族多灾多难的1997年

我惊出了一头冷汗
赶紧掏出手机拨通家里的电话
对着母亲嚷道：“妈，我现在相信有鬼了
我在街上看见死去的舅婆了！”

手机里传出母亲的声音十二分保真：
“儿子啊！你怎么忘了呢？
妈也早死了——
跟舅婆同一年死的呀！”

2011

Yi Sha
DREAM #2

Who says there are no colors in dreams?
On a pure white snow field
a black-clad assassin
chases three girls in red flowing robes.

Next scene is just black and white:
in a market corner, at a rickety fortune-teller’s stall,
I sign my name in three parts with a flourish
in three new poetry collections of mine.

2011
Tr. MW, 2016

梦（2）

谁说梦境无颜色
洁白的雪原上
一名黑衣剑客
在追逐三名红衣飘飘的女子

下一幕又是黑白的
在闹市一角算命先生的破桌上
我在我三本新诗集的扉页上
龙飞凤舞地签下了三具芳名

2011

Yi Sha
DREAM #3

In my dream
you suddenly scream
there’s a scar on my face!
I run to a mirror
but
in my dream
the mirror is like a curtain of water
no figure inside
not to speak of a face
or a scar

So this dream
is rather heavy
breaks through the bed
of my siesta
when I get up
like every time
I go to the bathroom
to wash my face
sweep up the cobwebs
I see the real me
in the real mirror
when I look closely
I’m suddenly scared
there’s a real scar
at a corner of my mouth

With a wet towel
I move back and forth
doesn’t hurt at all
suddenly I understand
we had lunch before my siesta
big shrimps braised in sauce
you do them so well

“Now I don’t even dream any more”,
11 years ago I said this in a conference.
I was becoming afraid
of being content in my middle years.
“So I am going to collect love and hate”
no-one understood, they heard only hate;
thought I was one hate-crazy villain.
Nice old men at the conference all kept their distance

Time has moved on
in a flash, 11 years later
I’m deep in the belly of middle age
and thank god I still dream.
I dream a lot more now
especially after writing my DREAMS
I dream every night
even in my siesta
all these dreams jump out,
try to land in my poetry.

My department head is looking for me.
My dream doesn’t tell me a reason,
so I present myself.
The boss is grateful:
“they all say they’re busy,
but you come straight away!”
Then he takes out a name register
for me to look at.

All the teachers of the department
are listed with name and current status.
XX in graduate studies
XX going for doctorate
XXX’s qualification has been authenticated
XXX is overseas for further studies
I hand back the list:
“It is very good now,
there are chances and hope for everyone!”

“Then why don’t you strive
to improve yourself?”
this sudden question
makes me speechless
I stare at my boss like an idiot
thinking harder and harder
but sink into fatal confusion
finding no reason
for me to exist

Stuck in this steaming dream
this completely fictional character
keeps getting grilled.

Three death candidates
hands tied on their backs
kneel in a trench
await execution
masked executioner
stands in front of them
knees bent in a stance
to warm himself up
then with a scream
suddenly goes into
“18 dragon subduing moves”
three condemned men
let out three cries
pitiful wails
then give up their ghosts
become three coils of smoke
go straight up to heaven

I am at the scene
I see everything
I am a priest
who prays for the souls
of the prisoners
and listens to their
confessions
right now
I am consoling a woman
from the next group
she has poisoned her husband
who had been abusing her for many years
she is leaving a son
“repent and confess
you’ll be born again
in your next life
you’ll meet your son”

“Save your breath!
in your next life
who knows who becomes what”,
like she doesn’t care.
sharp face (looks like trouble to men)
now she’s lost in thought:
“if there is a next life
I want to become
a cricket
for my son to catch me …”

In a dream
my wife set foot on the moon
and came back to tell me:
“It’s not interesting anymore,
this Chang’e goddess,
really not worth it.
The moon is tied up
with wire fences
and they have laid mines.
The moon is gray
like people’s ashes.”

2011
Tr/ MW, 2016

梦（18）

妻在梦中
登上月球
回来之后
告诉我说：
“没意思了
这嫦娥当得
真没意思
月球上扎了
好多铁丝网
还埋有地雷
月球灰
像骨灰”

2011

Yi Sha
DREAM #26

In my siesta
I dream of an old friend
we haven’t met for a long time
in my dream he is ill
a terminal disease
I see his face full of pain
it breaks my heart

When I get up I tell myself:
“dreams are false! dreams are the opposite!”

From the bedroom
I want to go straight to my studio
but the TV is on in the living room
my father watching alone
so I walk over
to keep him company for a few minutes
to my surprise
it’s a feature on dreams
this American guy
has dreamt several times
of a plane accident
that really happened later
he even dreamed of the flight number
they had a recording, he had called the airport

suddenly I feel weak
can’t watch anymore

In my studio
I don’t turn on my computer
but go first to my mother’s portrait
I light up a stick of incense
and pray in silence:
Mama, I have this craze about dreams
just because I want to stand out
to get on top in my career
and write immortal verse
please protect me
let it not become an obsession
never ever
let me go astray to be a fortune teller

Someone in staircase #4
had a break-in:
gold, silver, valuables
they lost quite a lot.
Everyone in the neighborhood
talking about it,
and so one day
I am coming home
(maybe from teaching)
I enter staircase #3
take the lift up to ninth floor
arrive at my doorstep,
take out my key
but something is wrong.
The door isn’t locked,
a noise comes from the bedroom.
I keep my shoes on and storm inside.
Someone must have slipped into the closet!
I yank the door open
and see a girl
in a nurse uniform
like from the beauty parlor around here
where my wife was a patient.
She has been discovered but she’s very fast,
jumps out of the closet,
wants to storm out the door.
I block her and grab her right from the front.
Oh! She feels so soft.
Oh! A born northern girl,
bright open face
not at all like a thief,
very much like a girl I played with
when I was small;
even breathes like that girl.
She tries to free herself,
so I hold her faster
till she screams:
“Rapist! Help!
Catch the rapist!”
I am so surprised
my hands let her go.
I watch her
race out the door
and get away.

A cat
lies on a bed
sleeping
on the bed I slept in
at college
male students dorm
upper berth
snoring

My dream doesn’t tell me
where it came from
so I conclude
I must have brought it in
from outside
a stray
in my dream
I look at the cat,
asking:
“where are you from?”
a snore is the answer

“Hey kitty, where is your home?”
this time it wakes up
stretching
sways around
changes into a violin
played by itself
string sounds come out

2012
Tr. MW, 2016

梦（37）

一只猫
躺在床上
睡觉
是躺在我
大学时代
男生宿舍
架子床上铺
呼呼大睡

梦未交待
猫之来历
我由此推想
这只猫
是我从外头
带回到宿舍来的
一只野猫
在梦里
我望着它
问它道：
“你的家在哪儿？”
鼾声作答

“嘿宝贝，你的家在哪儿？”
我再一次问它时
它伸了个懒腰
摇身一变
成一把小提琴
自己拉响
发出琴声

2012

Yi Sha
DREAM #42

When I was at college,
Zhang Jundao –
he was my roommate –
could sleep with his eyes open.
Xu Jiang can testify.
One night,
the light is still burning,
he leans at the head of the bed
talking with Xu Jiang and I,
gradually going silent.
Looks like he’s listening,
very soft eyes
looking at us,
softer and softer;
more and more lifeless,
eyes without spirit,
faint snore rising up.
I have to tell Xu Jiang, who talks like a waterfall:
“this guy is asleep!”
We examine him closely,
he really sleeps with his eyes open.
We wave back and forth in his face:
no reaction.
After a while
we see his eyeballs turning,
the white in his eyes moves back and forth
like a zombie.
Really scary.
“What is he doing?”, Xu Jiang asks me.
“I think he’s dreaming!”
Right the same moment,
the zombie shudders;
suddenly all alive,
speaking again:
“Hey, who told you to talk poetry,
it was so boring
I fell asleep
and had a dream!”

I am on the sports field of medical college #4
I watched outdoor movies there as a kid
black mass of an audience walling me in

but I am standing there as college student
with Hou Ma, my college friend
Xu Jiang, my other classmate
has gone off with Hou Ma’s girlfriend Fu Jing
so I tell Hou Ma: “call them on mobile!”

Hou Ma uses the cell phone
he only got many years after graduation
the call goes through … someone shouts from the loudspeakers:
“hey! we are here!”
it’s really them, Xu Jiang and Fu Jing

on the silver screen
gently rippled
by the evening breeze
like they appear in the movie

2011
Tr. MW, 2016

梦（44）

在我童年常看露天电影的
四医大的大操场上
在黑压压的观众外围

站立着大学时代的我
和我的大学同学侯马
同来的徐江同学
和侯马的女朋友傅琼同学
走丢了……我对侯马说：
“打他们手机！”

于是侯马打着
毕业多年以后
方能打上的手机
打通了……有人在高音喇叭里回话：
“嗨！我们在这儿呢！”
正是徐江和傅琼

浮现在随着晚风
轻轻飘荡的银幕上
仿佛电影里的人儿

2012

Yi Sha
DREAM #45

I pick up my son
we walk home from school
all the way talking about
a little bear
maybe it’s that boy upstairs
Little Bear is his name
now we are already
at our home
I take out my key
to unlock the metal door
it’s pitch black inside
but there is a sound!
my son shouts:
“Who are you? Man or bear?”
he shouts so loud,
that little noise
gets louder too!
I push my son
away from the door
I rush in like an arrow
leap into the kitchen
stretch out both arms
grab two vegetable knives
from the rack by the sink
they gleam in the dark
I am very glad
I had them sharpened
two days ago

From the end of a long corridor
in a Chinese courtyard
two gentlemen walking up slowly.
The older one with the grimy beard,
he is my idol from when I was young.
The younger one with the smooth chin
is my favorite active soccer player.
Maradonna and Messi
have arrived in fornt of me,
so I tell them:
“You have to win!
You must come out on top!
You must hold the World Cup!
If you guys are eliminated
our whole goddamn TV
will never stop playing
‘Don’t cry for me, Argentina’,
like it was your Memorial Day!”
Two soccer kings
look speechless at me.
Who is this impertinent Chinese fan?

By day I had been with Wang Youwei
in a town at the foot of Qingling ridge
picked two nameless flowers, most lovely
by the wall of someone’s backyard;
had our way barred at the village exit
by the mistress of that house:
“You two picked our flowers!”

At night I dreamt myself
in a golden field by Van Gogh
wringing a sunflower’s neck
and getting rebuked on the way back
at the highway toll booth
by a female officer
with a sage-like remark:
“In the face of the sun,
you don’t steal a sunflower!”

The poetess Nan Mo
who had stopped writing
has started again;
she has written
a very good poem.

She is an old friend,
so I am very happy;
I am going to put this poem
into my new anthology.

I go to her blog,
I search all around
but cannot find
that new good poem.

This summer morning
lounging in the warm sun
I suddenly realize:
it was just my dream.

2011
Tr. MW, 2016

梦（49）

久不写诗的
女诗人南嫫
又写诗了
写了很好的
一首诗

我为老友高兴
并想把这首诗
收到我手头上
正在编的集子里去
便去她的博客下载
但却死活找不到
那首好诗

我在夏日清晨
暖洋洋的阳光下
恍然大悟
这是我昨晚做的梦

2012

Yi Sha
DREAM #50

Drinking together
with a few friends
getting into the thing;
me who can’t take very much
actually provoking them
into drinking contests.
I am so happy
I just don’t get drunk,
but right at this time
someone shouts from a seat by the door:
“XXX is coming!”
That guy is a famous
fake among poets.
As soon as I hear his name
I put down my cup
upside down on the mess of a table
and act like I’m wasted.

Yi Sha, pen name of Wu Wenjian. Poet, writer, translator, editor. Born 1966 in Chengdu, grew up in Xi’an. Graduated from Beijing Normal University in 1989. Teaches Chinese literature at Xi’an International Studies University. Has published over 70 books, incl. his own works, translations and anthologies. Henry Luce fellow for Chinese poetry at Vermont Studio Center. Recipient of numerous major poetry awards in China. Invited to poetry festivals in Sweden, Netherlands, UK, Macedonia, Macau etc. Recital in Tucson, organized by Arizona University. Recitals and workshop in Austria, organized by University of Vienna, University of Applied Arts and Lichtungen Magazine, Graz. Translated into English, German, Hebrew, Korean etc.